


the night before, the morning of

by spilled_notes



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8617129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spilled_notes/pseuds/spilled_notes
Summary: Serena prepares to see Bernie again.





	

_i) Sunday evening_

Serena lies back amid the bubbles, closes her eyes and sighs deeply, feeling the hot water begin to soothe her body and mind.

She’s spent the day trawling the shopping centre, not enjoying it anywhere near as much as she usually would. She blames it on the crowds, the decorations, the Christmas music. Serena isn’t a Scrooge – far from it, she loves Christmas – but it’s only the middle of November, for pity’s sake.

And when did it become so sodding hard to find something she likes, anyway? She huffs in frustration. Harsh fitting room lights and unflattering mirrors, and has she changed shape recently? Maybe, that could be it.

(She hasn’t, she knows she hasn’t. Knows exactly why she’s being so discerning, why this matters so much.)

She ended up somewhere far more pricey than she’d usually shop, but she’d exhausted all her other options without anything catching her eye. The assistant assured her that it was a perfect fit, bound to impress.

 

_ii) Sunday night_

She can’t settle. Jason went to bed hours ago, she’s made herself a cup of peppermint tea and is trying to read. But her eyes keep being drawn from the page to the outfit hanging on her wardrobe door.

Eventually she closes the book, flings back the covers and pads across the room, touches the expensive fabric. Imagines her face when she sees it.

_She’d better like it, the amount it cost me._

For a moment she considers switching her normal shoes for heels. Impractical, yes, but it would definitely surprise her.

And then she remembers that previous occasion when she’d ended up on the floor twice, once with Angus on top of her.

_Although if Bernie were to try and help me up…_

_No. I don’t need to make a fool of myself in front of her again._

 

_iii) Monday morning (early)_

Serena wakes before her alarm. Well before her alarm, she realises with a groan when she checks the clock. She rolls over, buries her face in her pillow, wills herself to fall back to sleep.

_Is she nervous too? Excited? Terrified?_

_Or not,_ a smaller voice suggests. _What if she doesn’t care?_

No. Serena saw it, felt it.

_Is she brave enough?_

She gives up, switches on the lamp and picks up a medical journal.

_May as well do something useful._

 

_iv) Monday morning (later)_

She makes herself stay in bed until half an hour before her alarm. Takes a little longer in the shower, extra time styling her hair, more care over her make up. Pulls on the blouse and buttons it with fingers that barely tremble at all. When she’s done she studies herself in the mirror.

_Do I look like I’ve made too much effort?_

Too late to worry about that now: she can hear Jason getting his breakfast.

In the kitchen she glances at the calendar, eyes lingering on Bernie’s name in today’s square.

 

_v) Monday morning (later still)_

On the drive in she steels herself, adds the last layer of armour. Because everything from her underwear to her make up is as much about making her feel good, strong, protected as it is about drawing a reaction from Bernie.

Wagner on the radio seems so apt it could almost be scripted. She might not be going into battle but the rousing music gives her an extra lift, and by the time she pulls into her space she feels ready – well, as ready as she’ll ever be.

_You can do this, old girl._

A tap on the window makes her jump.

‘We’re going to be late, Auntie Serena.’

‘Coming, Jason.’

A last check in the mirror, a last deep breath.

_Right._


End file.
